


Light and Rain

by arenoseAnima



Series: Welcome Home [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Rainbow Drinkers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-23
Updated: 2011-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-22 23:44:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arenoseAnima/pseuds/arenoseAnima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the day is saved, Rose Lalonde is missing someone special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light and Rain

You sleep. For the first time since the game got underway, you _sleep_ , without the whispers of things beyond the breadth of your mind working your thoughts over like a dog with his favorite bone. No meteors lighting the deep dark forest outside your home, no craters gaping like a hole worried in a blanket by a lonely child, no insistent prodding from any of the quite expanded roster you now have the privilege to call your friends. There is rain, though. Not the bright sparkling spears pouring down from the sky, illuminated by clouds in every color of the rainbow and the light of a distant source of unlimited creative potential, but the night-rain of your own home planet, only droplets of plain Earth water. It’s a comfort to hear it roaring in your ears as you sleep your sweet, dreamless sleep, not even disturbed by the occasional flashes of bright lightning in the velvet darkness outside.

This is the first night it’s rained since you and your friends won, for lack of a better word. All of you won the right to create a new universe, one made out of the minds and bodies and souls of all the remaining ten of you, and after a long discussion involving a bit of uncharacteristic shouting on John’s part, you had decided not to have _any_ interaction with whatever unfortunate, possibly doomed souls your broken-and-healed session had brought into existence. Karkat had agreed wholeheartedly –  THANK FUCKING GOD. YOU IDIOTS ALREADY BROUGHT US ENOUGH GRIEF., with a hand resting on John’s shoulder – and you had spoken no more of it, just glad to be alive and out of the black-white-green claws of certain death. The separation of your close-knit group after admission to the brand new Earth was a small barrier compared to the struggles you had already gone through.

 In the three days since, you have heard from several people:  hi rose!, sup lalonde, hi rose!! :D (looking back, you wonder how you never realized that John and Jade were related – it doesn’t take a Seer), I’M CHECKING IN SO YOU WON’T FUCKING BOTHER ME WHILE I’M BUSY WITH MORE IMPORTANT THINGS THAN LISTENING TO THE ENORMOUS FARTS THAT ISSUE FROM YOUR PROTEIN CHUTE., and WhAt ThE fUcK iS uP aLl In YoUr PlAcE mY nEw MoThErFuCkIn SiS. You left the handles of the dead trolls on your chumroll, like a memorial, and you feel a terrible little pang every time you see them. But there’s another troll – still alive, you hope - that hasn’t logged on either. You feel an empty spot where once there was soothing jade text, every word fastidiously capitalized, a gentle fussing tone that made you feel warm and looked-after in the worst moments of your paired sessions. No one has seen or even heard from Kanaya yet, not even Sollux, who seems to keep tabs on the ten of you as a matter of course.

As you sleep, the worry you won’t, would never in a million years, never in two iterations of paradox space, let yourself express while awake eventually begins to assert itself in your dreams. You remember the first time you saw the trolls in person, all of you together, looking so excited and forgetting the pain you had gone through now that you were on the other side of the Scratch. You remember that gently chiding voice, always sounding like its owner is about to pluck a string from your coat and push you out the door to catch the school bus just in time.

So   
So.  
  
It Seems That We Finally Have The Opportunity To Meet In Person  
You Are  
Well  
You Are Exactly As I Had Previously Observed You Through The Trollian Viewport  
I Suppose Your Opinion Of Me Must Be Somewhat Different  
?  
  
Not at all. I’m surprised by the accuracy of your description, actually. I had thought you might leave out some of the things which you take for granted when you look in the mirror, but you even included the one charmingly bent horn.  
  
I Am Glad You Find Me Charming Then Rose  
I Think I Might Er  
Reciprocate The Sentiment  
You Are Much More Lively In Person  
  
Thank you, Kanaya. Your skin… is that a side effect of being a – what did you call it? A rainbow drinker? That seems somewhat inconvenient for hunting your prey.  
  
You Are Correct The Porous Flexible Exoskeleton Of A Rainbow Drinker Does Produce Its Own Light  
It Is Not An Impediment To My Feeding However  
The Prey Of A Rainbow Drinker Is Typically  
Er  
Willing  
  
I see. Fascinating. Thank you for the… _very_ informative explanation.

Kanaya’s cheeks turn a very deep green at the tone of your voice and a smug fire lights inside your chest, but before either of you can say anything more, her leader and your friendleader begin to speak. A loud raspy voice rises above the din of the other trolls and humans, occasionally intercut with John’s familiar lilt. You smile in your sleep: this is just how you remember it, you and Kanaya looking around for the source of your respective leaders’ voices, finding it in the long lightning-blue wiggle of John’s ridiculous god hood somewhere near the center of the clustered group.

ALRIGHT, LISTEN THE FUCK UP, YOU BRAIN-ADDLED GAGGLE OF PROLAPSING RETARDS. THE PREVIOUS BAN ON SLOPPY INTERSPECIES MAKEOUTS STILL STANDS, FOR RIGHT NOW AND CARRYING ON THROUGHOUT THIS NEW FUCKING SESSION THAT WE ARE APPARENTLY EMBARKING ON ACCORDING TO THE INNOVATOR IN THE FIELD OF IDIOTICS STANDING NEXT TO ME.  
  
hahaha, he just means that all of us should really concentrate on making this game go much better than before! we’re going to win this time!

The pep talk goes on just according to your well-trod memory, with John the ointment to the wounds caused by Karkat’s abrasion. You begin to drift into sleep again, more interested in rest than revisiting old memories no matter how sweet, but your mind returns to the dream as you realize something is wrong. Karkat and John are still talking, but their words aren’t making sense – GAGL’NAH XAHT BLACK KING HRAAT THE FUCKING REWARD THIS FT’HNAGG karkat’s raagnag we’ll phth’nakth gglrt – and soon even the unintelligible words, bitterly and horrifyingly familiar, are interrupted by gurgling and glooping, and through the crowd you see John and Karkat as clear as day despite the muddiness of their words. Their eyes and mouths and noses and ears drip a thick black ichor that oozes down their shirts and puddles on the floor in a pool as black as midnight, surrounded by rivulets that reach for you and Kanaya. You want to scream, but the words don’t come out, only a glob of black wrenched from your throat and mixing with the fluid pouring from your eyes and ears and darkening your skin. The rest of the trolls, as well as your brother and Jade, turn to you, and they’re all leaking the same fluid. They reach for you, and instead of hands they have barbed, suckered tentacles that wrap around you in an unyielding grip, Kanaya’s slipping around your head and waist almost tenderly, and with a squeeze and a wrench everything is black for you, too.

You sit up in a cold sweat, hair matted to your neck. You ignore the tears blinked from your eyes as you hold the sheets tight to your chest. The nightmares, at least, are more infrequent than they were during your doomed session; only once or twice a night rather than clawing into the folds of your brain every time you close your eyes. The infrequency is more than made up for with severity. The dreams from the Noble Circle had a _point_ , and you knew that their gifts to your sleeping mind, though so far removed from human aesthetics, sanity, and basic decency that they were all but unrecognizable, were, at their core, meant to help you reach a goal already decided before you were even ectoborn. You cannot say the same thing for your own mind. One of the few entries on the list of things you are willing to admit to yourself is that your interest in armchair therapy is largely a way for you to escape analyzing your own mind, and dream analysis might as well be locked away within Kanaya’s chastity modus so little are you interested in applying the technique to the jaundiced imaginings of your own repressed mind.

Reminding yourself of your own failings isn’t the most pleasant thing, but it helps you push the nightmare back where it belongs – far in the recesses of your skull, settled in comfortably right next to your feelings about your mother. Take that, Sophocles. You calm down slowly but surely, your fists unclenching to leave little half-moons in your palms. Just in time for the doorbell to wrench the crochet hook from the delicate blanket of your nerves and leave them a frayed mess. The _doorbell_? You look over at the clock on your nightstand; your dear mother bought you one with absolutely enormous numbers so you could be sure to see them while half-asleep. Assuming, of course, that there was no power outage while you were sleeping (unlikely, since you have made sure the generator works) and that this isn’t another dream (also unlikely: the marks in your palms throb with a dull ache), it is precisely four thirteen in the morning. Who could be bothering you at this hour, at your house in the middle of nowhere with rain dripping down the white walls?    

You get up out of bed with an excessively unladylike grunt, taking a moment to pull the sheets up into marginally presentable condition. Your nightgown is quickly swapped out for some lady’s underthings and your old black dress – it brings back a few unpleasant memories, but it’s still quite comfortable. It takes you a good few minutes to descend from your room to the front door; you haven’t yet had the heart to fully take over the rest of the enormous house, and you haven’t even opened the door to your mother’s room, but you’ve cleaned up a few of the more egregious bits of wizard paraphernalia, which are now arranged tastefully in one of the lesser-used rooms.

You open the door without looking through the peephole first, accustomed to simply having the power to use one of your Thorns to zap away whatever threatens you. Luckily, what lies on the other side is not an imp, or an ogre, or a serial killer – well, that one is debatable. It is, in fact, Kanaya, the luminescence of her skin turning the droplets of rain falling all around her into glittering jewels, her hair soaked to her scalp and matted around her horns, and her dress – a remade version of her original, with a sash more matching yours replacing the makeshift bandage made from Eridan’s scarf - sodden and clinging to her.

Hello Rose  
May I Come Inside  
It Is A Bit Chilly Out Here And I Have Been Walking For Several Days  
I Would Not Want My Visit To You To Be Heralded By A

She’s cut off by you reaching out and pulling her into the safe warmth of the house (Stop rambling and get in here.) and the even safer warmth of your arms. You scarcely care that you’re getting soaked from her dress as relief flows through every limb and trickles into your tired fingers and toes. Kanaya stands stiffly for a moment, then smiles (you missed the way her fangs peek out over her bottom lip) and folds her arms gently around you. The pair of you hold the hug for a short moment before you start getting fidgety and pull away.

I agree. A cold would be no way to kick off your first week on this fresh new planet, unless you discovered a newfound interest in being nursed back to health.  
  
I Suppose I Might Be Able To Get Used To It  
Though I Would Rather Spend My Time Doing Something Interesting  
Such As  
Sewing  
Or Engaging In Another Entry In The Long List Of Our Shared Pastimes  
For Example  
Witty Banter  
  
I’m afraid my witty banter power cells charge on daylight, and it seems that you’ve arrived here in the wee hours of the morning. About that…  
  
I Do Apologize About The Hour  
It Is Not In Fact A Miscalculation Regarding The Diurnal Nature Of Your Species  
It Simply Took A Longer Time To Walk From  
What Was It  
‘New Hampshire’  
Than I Had Previously Calculated  
  
You walked here from _New Hampshire_? Is there some sudden deficit in public transportation I’m unaware of? Has the inevitable collapse of society and subsequent apocalypse not touched my little corner of the ass end of nowhere?  
  
All The Modes Of Public Transportation Required Currency Which I Regrettably Do Not Have  
I Would Have Used My Remaining Boondollars But They Seem To Have Vanished  
My Walk Was Uneventful Aside From Being Long And Exhausting By The Way  
Thank You For Your Concern I Can Feel My Heart Warming Already  
  
I was waiting for you to elaborate before I let my poker face drop and reveal that I was concerned about you. Blast, now it’s all ruined. Damn your uncanny ability to pierce through my finely-crafted layers of bullshit. I might as well get you all warmed up while I’m being motherly. Assuming, of course, that warmth is not inimical to trolls or rainbow drinkers or both.  
  
No I Think I Would Quite Like You Warming Me Up  
Er  
Wait  
That Came Out Wrong  
  
If you say so.

The kitchen isn’t exactly the warmest and most inviting room in the house, but Kanaya’s dripping dress won’t ruin the tile, and there are plenty of towels (printed with tiny wizards frolicking about with orcs and goblins, but you can’t be bothered to replace them, especially when they’re so fluffy and absorbent and _magical_ ) in the nearest bathroom. You feel a small ache at leaving Kanaya sitting in one of the two chairs at the kitchen table, even if it’s just for a moment – she looks small, there in the sterile white room, soaked to the skin and trying to hide her shivers to retain all that tall, willowy dignity. You make sure you only duck into the water closet for the barest moment before you come back, starting to jog and stifling it with effort lest, you tell yourself in the flimsiest inner voice you’ve ever managed, you slip on the wet trail your friend left. You carefully wrap the towel around Kanaya and drape it over her shoulders, then adjust it a bit more, making sure everything is all tucked in properly.

There. A proper cape for a troll Carmilla.

She looks at you like you’ve just propositioned her. Whoops.

I See That Humans Have Also Created That  
Particular Work Of Literature  
I Am Rather Impressed That You Are Familiar With It Actually  
But I Suppose I Should No Longer Be Surprised By Your Erudition  
  
My very sincerest apologies. I seem to have become unintentionally tangled in a web of implications.  
  
You Have No Sincere Apologies Rose  
I Believe That You Meant Every Last Bit Of Flirtation  
  
Flirtation? Me? Never. Would I ever dare to make it so obvious?

This has suddenly gotten _terribly_ out of hand. Your mouth gets carried away with speaking without consulting your brain first – probably because your brain is busy frantically searching for the brakes, or the apologies, or the irony off switch, or _something_.

Your Conversational Tactics Are Quite Nuanced So Perhaps  
I Would Not Want To Assume  
  
You know about assumption. It makes an ass out of you and umption.  
  
I Am Not Sure That Is How The Phrase Goes  
  
As Orwell says, never use a phrase you’ve heard someone use before. Do you mind if I sit?  
Oh No Feel Free To Accompany Me At This Enormous Culinary Consumption Platform  
I Find It Difficult To Believe That You And Your Custodian Could Have Occupied This Gigantic Hive By Yourselves

Your trek to the other side of the table to retrieve the other chair gives you a moment to calm yourself down and still the frantic thumping of your heart. At least until you discover that you’re not strong enough to push the heavy piece of furniture over by yourself and Kanaya rises to help you. As a rainbow drinker, she’s magnificently strong and dexterous to boot and could probably lift the chair over her head with one hand and do an acrobatic fucking pirouette while cooking you the most delicious dinner you’ve ever eaten, but she pretends to be struggling with the chair as much as you are. The two of you push it back to the other end of the table together, with your hands almost touching, and by the time you get there you feel all conflicted and melty again. Then there’s a brief, wordless standoff while you try to offer each other the first seat until you both finally get tired of it and sit down at the same time. Your knees are almost touching and you swear you can smell her hair. Your stomach rolls around inside of you in damnably frequent spirals.

…so how have you been? Aside from the trek through the wendigo- and unknown-horror-infested woods of New England, I mean.  


  
I Have Been Fine I Suppose  
The Sun Of Your Planet Is Not Nearly As Flesh-Scorching As Alternia’s  
I Find I Am More Easily Able To Enjoy Both It And The Night  
Walking Through Your Woods Was An Oddly Pleasant Trip What With All The Wingbeasts And Other Small Creatures That Occupy The Trees  
Not One Single Animal Attempted To Feast On My Corpse  
  
You didn’t encounter any formless beasts crying _tekeli-li_?  
  
No  
Should I Have  
?  
  
Not necessarily. I was just wondering. You never know, you know.  
Have you eaten?

Kanaya doesn’t like to talk about her feeding habits. She almost seems embarrassed that she depends on the presence of others for her sustenance. The two of you spent most of your time in the ten-player session together, but she never once asked to feed on you; whenever the rumblings of her belly got too strong to ignore, she would dip off to one of the other planets and take what she needed from one of the other trolls. Of course, you continued on building your strength – the Black King of your new session was only just slightly weaker than the trolls’, thankfully and miserably without the power of Feferi’s lusus – but adventuring was considerably more lonely without your elegantly snarky companion at your side. You never asked her how it went after she got back; the two of you just returned to what you had been doing, with a slightly increased ratio of grateful hand-brushes and lingering looks.

Being without her was unpleasant on several deep levels. You may be repressed, but you aren’t an idiot. The other trolls and humans stayed away from the both of you with their romantic overtures, even if you were sure you could feel Karkat’s hate lasers boring into you all the way from the Land of Pulse and Haze. You learned to sleep during the day, and Kanaya at night; you had to get a few winks whenever you could, and one of you had to stay up to keep watch. Sleeping in your own session had been awful, plagued with the whispers of the horrorterrors. Somehow, when it was Kanaya’s turn to keep watch, it didn’t seem as bad. She would stroke your hair as you slept, and when you cried out with a nightmare she would lift you into her arms and hold you there until you woke. As a Prospit dreamer, she had none of the trouble sleeping that you did, and as a rainbow drinker, she required much less to begin with. She kept watch most of the time. You never talked about what happened while you were sleeping, or her charity and tenderness in wrapping you in the luminescent warmth of her embrace. You still can’t decide if it was simply Things That Do Not Need To Be Said, or, like her trips to visit the other trolls, something that neither of you wanted to talk about for fear that something would come out of one of your mouths that you didn’t want the other to hear.

You realize belatedly that you are staring into the middle distance and that Kanaya has probably answered the question you asked her, sometime during your flashback _cum_ heart-fluttering reminiscence.

Sorry, did you answer? I was lost in memories for a moment.  
  
Yes  
Or  
No  
Er  
Yes I Answered Your Question No I Have Not Imbibed Since We Arrived Here  
What Were You Thinking About  
  
Nothing important. Only our session, and the things you and I did together.  
  
You Wound Me Rose  
I Find Your Company Very Important And I Am Hurt That You Do Not Feel The Same Way  
  
You know what I meant. Don’t be such a brat.

The two of you grin at each other, really grin, with teeth and everything. Her fangs would look more predatory if her hair wasn’t still plastered to her head and if she wasn’t wrapped in your adorable wizard towel.

Have you tried feeding on our planet’s multifarious animal species? You must have been tripping over adorable forest animals on the way here.  
  
I Was Feeling Peckish And Fed Off Of A Chittering Treeskitterer  
It Was Not Nearly As  
Sustaining  
As  
Well  
You Know  
Rose I Thought We Had An Unspoken Agreement Not To Talk About This  
  
Am I making you uncomfortable?

Your lips twist into a wicked grin completely of their own accord. The worm is in the other shoe now, as they say, but you’re having a hard time not thinking of her feeding on you – her lips on your neck, fangs pricking your skin as she dips you in her arms like the cover of a bodice ripper…

Perhaps But Now You Look Rather Agitated As Well So I Suppose We Have Reached Equilibrium In Our Perturbation  
As Long As We Are Engaging In This Horrific Discussion I Suppose I Will Indulge Your Curiosity  
I Am Not Nourished By Animals As Effectively As I Am By Trolls  
I Have Not Tried To Consume The Vital Fluids Of A Human Yet  
Do You Think This Would Be A Viable Solution To My Growing Hunger

Looks like Kanaya came to this oblique flirting arms race laden with the heaviest weapons in her arsenal. You are forced to take the defensive again.

I suppose it’s your only recourse at this point. The others are quite far from here; I’m not sure you could make the trip feeding only on animals or not at all.  
  
Does There Happen To Be Anyone Else Residing Within Your Hive  
  
Just me, I’m afraid. The game hasn’t seen fit to restore our guardians, it seems.

Kanaya frowns and reaches for your hand, starting to say something before she thinks better of it and retracts. You almost, _almost_ say something; the words are on the very tip of your tongue, ready to leap from your lips in beautiful rainbow fireworks of loquaciousness and mingle with Kanaya’s ears to create the beautiful egg sacs that will ripen and eventually burst into the conversational larvae that keep the two of you going for hours at a time.

Then I Suppose The Only Dining Option Present At This Time Is Whatever Happens To Be On Your Menu  
  
That’s certainly a nice way to say “I’m going to tear open your jugular with my teeth and feast on your lifeblood.”  
  
Your Lack Of Faith In My Manners Is Disturbing  
I Would Never Dream Of Ripping Any Part Of You Open  
  
How reassuring. Shall we go ahead and get this over with, since you seem so terribly set on nourishing yourself despite my jangling nerves?  
  
Its Terribly Selfish Of Me Isnt It  
I Can Feel My Stomach Growing Hollower By The Minute  
Please Fill My Belly Before I Waste Away  
Is This The Point Where I Make A Heartbroken Face And Play A Song That Will Make You Weep A Single Tear Of Black Liquid Sorrow While A Celebrity Voiceover Implores You To Spend Just Five Cents A Day To Give Me A Good Home  
  
How do you even _know_ about that?  
  
Your Ectobiological Brother Is A Creature Born Of Pure Torment  
  
Somehow I’m not surprised in the slightest. I suppose I had better phone in now and make my donation, though, before the poor starving troll is put to sleep. How should we do this?  
  
Ill Take Care Of Everything  
Remain Where You Are Please

Kanaya leans over, and there is the briefest moment of horrid adolescent fumbling as she tries to not gouge out your eye with her horn. You are awfully, burningly aware that your heart is in your throat, and you half-hope she’ll accidentally bite it and end the uncomfortable fluttering feeling making a slow trek around every last inch of your innards. She puts one arm around your waist, ever-so-tentatively, and threads the fingers of her other hand into your hair to tilt your head back just the slightest bit.

She closes the last distance and brushes her lips against your neck, and the world contracts like someone’s adjusted the aperture on Scratch’s camera. The only things in the entire universe are you and her, and, if it’s absolutely necessary, your chair. Even your hair erupts in prickles. She exhales softly, her breath washing over your skin, and you scarcely have time to react to the pleasure bubbling up inside you before all the stops are pulled out and she slams her fingers on the ivory keys. She sinks her fangs right in, _right_ into your waiting skin and pulse. Everything swirling around your brain turns into a single pinpoint of  oh god oh god oh god oh _god yes_ and the pinpoint lights up with that sucking sensation and your legs twitch wildly under you, your thighs rub together, her tongue brushes on a dripping trickle of red and your back arches, she _growls_ as she presses long rolling licks against your pulse and _oh_ that’s _it_ you are _done_ as fireworks burst and crackle and rattle off the inside of your skull and slide down your spine like electric arcs and you’re clutching her shoulders to keep from sliding onto the floor before you dimly realize that her strong hand is pressing just between your shoulderblades and taking care of that for you. Where did these tears come from? They’re rolling down your face in rhythm with the dim throbbing of your lower body, and you certainly don’t _remember_ starting to cry amidst all that overwhelming jade-green pleasure.

Rose  
Rose Are You All Right

Her voice reaches you from a great distance. You claw your way up from whatever dark velvety place you went to while she was feeding; her gentle coos are accompanied by her pressing something else to your neck – something dry, not hot and wet and slick and oh time to stop thinking about _that_ while you’re still around her – and her hand still somehow stroking through your hair. Her hands are _everywhere_ , and you have a growing suspicion that that is exactly how you like it. More than a suspicion, in fact. You feel as though the holes she left in your neck, already healing, have let in the lovely candlelight glow of her skin to chase away all the doubt inside you.

Rose Please Answer Me You Are Very Red And Crying Now And I Am Worried  
  
I’m… I’m just fine, Kanaya. Better than fine, I think.

Your voice sounds unfamiliar to your ears, all wobbly and thick and low. As your eyes focus you are staring into Kanaya’s; her irises are just starting to fill with the forest color of her blood, the green and grey a startling contrast to the red smeared around her painted lips. You stare harder as the point of her tongue peeks out to lick off a drop that threatens to escape.

Are you doing that on purpose?  
  
Doing What  
I Am Still Worried You Know Even If You Are Still Capable Of Speech  
The Others Never Reacted This Way  
  
The others were trolls and, I’m slightly embarrassed to note, sturdier than I by their very nature, especially regarding the tender subject of you..  
  
I Worry  
  
I know. Remember how I mentioned your uncanny ability to pierce through bullshit?  
  
Yes Although If This Is Going To Be A Self Deprecating Crack On The Quality Of Your Skin I Am Going To Have To Respectfully Disagree Having Now Had Firsthand Experience With Its Lovely Smoothness  
  
Not quite, and… well, thank you. I may have actually stumbled upon a situation that verbal obfuscation cannot solve. Imagine that.

You barely even have to lean in to press your lips to hers. She is less surprised than you thought she would be, but you can feel her cheeks warming, and you keep your eyes open just long enough to see hers widen and then drift shut. She holds your head just where it is and delivers unto you a perfectly hungry kiss, smearing blood all over your mouth. You do not care one whit.

Oh  
  
Very good. I’ll be teaching you the rest of the alphabet tonight as well, if you’d like.  
  
Oh My Goodness Rose  
And You Said I Was Forward  
  
Am I misreading your signals? Have I somehow sent mixed messages with my fumbling climax in your embrace, or by allowing you to partake in the sweet liquors of my very first kiss?  
  
No Not In The Slightest  
But  
I Have Only Read About This Kind Of  
Activity  
  
I’m sure the both of us will do just fine with the sheer breadth of our knowledge and onanistic fumblings, don’t worry. But if you _must_ know, the butterflies in my stomach have been riled to an extent which they perhaps have never been before.

She kisses your neck on the other side, leaving a lipstick-blood smear and eliciting a consummately involuntary shiver from you. You’re distracted from manners fencing for a moment to return the first of many licks, dragging your tongue over her blush and then to her mouth, and the two of you only part from your new kiss with a reluctant moan so you can get the formalities over with.

Carry me upstairs? I need my nightlight tonight.  
  
Dont Worry Theres Only Room For One Monster Here  
  
Don’t be so hard on yourself.  
  
Im Not Very Good At Bedroom Talk Am I  
  
Plenty of time for both of us to learn.

One arm across your back and one under your knees, cradling you to her chest, and she’s carrying you up the long staircase to the rest of your life.


End file.
